


bindings

by astrifer0us



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Phil has wings, Trans Male Character, hybrid techno, sbi as a family, trans sbi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrifer0us/pseuds/astrifer0us
Summary: a series of short stories about trans members of the SBI famthese will be stand-alone, not connected stories!
Comments: 8
Kudos: 96





	1. about binders and wings

Phil sighs deeply as he stretches his arms above his head. The motion only further intensifies the pain that has settled into his upper back muscles, and he winces at the pull.

Yeah. This has been long enough. He sits down on the bed, gritting his teeth as he prepares himself mentally for the task ahead. The shirt is first to go, buttons nimbly being undone by practised fingers, and he slides the garment off his shoulders. Shrugging it off his wings, he lets it falls to the sheets, eyes automatically dropping to his chest. The tight black binder comes to his midriff, only a slight bump revealing what is underneath. He sighs, then reaches for the buttons on the side, undoing them and pulling the binder over one arm. His chest expands with relief, ribs twinging with an ache that settled in over an hour ago.

Now for the hard part.

Twisting his upper body around, he carefully slides the garment over one wing, contorting his torso painfully in order to reach. A sharp pain shoots up his back and he curses through his teeth, pausing mid-twist as he takes a few deep breaths.

A knock on the door. “Dad? Dinner’s ready.”

“Be there in a minute, son,” he answers, voice strained.

The door cracks open and Wilbur peeks in, always too curious for his own good. “Dad,” he sighs, walking over and pushing his father’s hands out of the way. “You know we can help with that.”

“You won’t always be around to help,” Phil says lightly, cracking a smile to mask the pain that statement causes. His boys are growing up, and soon they’ll leave the nest. It fills him with a mixture of pride and anxiety.

Wilbur only rolls his eyes, gently sliding the binder over both wings so it only hangs over one shoulder. “Well, we are now. So, ask.” He takes a step back, letting Phil take the garment off entirely and drop it onto his shirt. “Besides, just because me and Tommy might want to go out and explore, doesn’t mean Techno will. You know he’s getting tired of fighting.”

Phil tries to picture his eldest son helping him out of his binder with that much care. Scoffs. If it were up to him, he’d cut it off with his sword. “Pah. He has better things to do than to tend to his old man.” He takes the robe Wilbur offers him, tying it around his topless form. His wings press uncomfortably against his back, but it’s nothing he’s not used to. “Now, come, before the little twerp eats all our steak.”

Wilbur smiles wryly as he lets his father out the door, hanging behind. “You go. I’m just going to change into a different sweater.” As he watches the winged man descend the stairs, Wil sinks onto the bed, fingers tangling in his hair. Sometimes it feels like yesterday that they found out. When Wilbur started crying because he saw his father with bandages around his chest, and thought he’d gotten hurt. When Techno had cursed until his face was red, yelling at Phil not to hurt himself.

The binder had arrived weeks later, from a store in the nearby town. Techno had shrugged and said Wilbur must’ve gotten it from his allowance. Wilbur shook his head and said Techno had surely gotten it.

Phil had never brought up the missing gold bars. They considered that a success.

In a few minutes, Wilbur will come down and join the table. He will fight Tommy over the last piece of steak, and Techno will steal it out from under both of their noses, and Phil will laugh and admonish the three of them for fighting at the table.

For now, he hangs over the balustrade, watching his father trying to balance a stack of plates as Tommy runs around wielding a wooden spoon like a sword, as Techno surreptitiously pops a potato in his mouth, and he smiles.


	2. blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy grows up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, writing more than one chapter in one day? its more likely than you think
> 
> this chapter deals a bit more with possibly triggering language, such as accidental misgendering and talk of being born in a wrong body. im trans myself and have tried to word things as well as possible, but apologies if it still comes across wrong!
> 
> also chapter tw for blood

It’s easier as a kid. All he needs to do is yell extra loud, push everything away behind a brash exterior. It’s a mask to wear, and he does so proudly, and there are days where he thinks it might just become his new face. He wouldn’t mind. No, people don’t like him, no one really does, he’s too loud and rough and his edges are too sharp, but he’d rather them see the mask than what he’s hiding underneath.

It becomes harder with age. When the boys around him grow sharper, taller and leaner, he becomes softer, rounds out even as he shoots up in height. Where the other boys deepen their voices, become gruff and, dare he say, ‘manly’, he retains that pitch that makes the other kids laugh and mock him.

When his chest begins to grow, he freaks.

(he knows, logically, that it was bound to happen. he knows he was born in the wrong body. but with a mask on it’s hard to see what’s coming.)

So he keeps his hair cut short. Layers can hide his developing chest, but people still notice. More and more often, ‘girl’ gets thrown his way. ‘Excuse me, young lady’. So he acts louder and laughs it off

(and if the other kids stare at him weirdly for bathing while clothed, that’s their fucking problem. now he doesn’t have to do laundry anymore, he’s a _genius_.)

It’s not the first time he gets caught stealing. Overconfidence paints his moves and he often takes more than he can carry.

It’s the first time his victim is so nice about it though.

“You can keep that, if you want,” the man says, gesturing to the carrot he’d shoved into his mouth. He’s tall, and his eyes are squinted with a smile, and he has _wings_ which is basically the coolest thing ever. Tommy shifts the pouch of coin in his arms so he can take the vegetable out of his mouth.

“Damn right I will!” He takes a bite out of it for good measure. The man laughs, then looks down at his arms.

“I’ll be taking that back, though. I still have to buy dinner for tonight. Do you want to join?”

Tommy gapes at him, then nods so quickly the bite of carrot lodges in his throat. The man only laughs as he bends over, coughing and spluttering.

Phil, as the man introduces himself, has two more children. They’re both just as weird as him. Wilbur and Technoblade are twins, he claims, despite not looking a lick alike. Wilbur is gangly and pale, with a mop of curly brown hair and a passion for music. Techno, on the other hand, is a fucking piglin hybrid.

So, really, he fits right in.

He gets the guestroom all to himself. It has a bed, and sheets, and a pillow. Tommy is in love. When Phil offers to wash his clothes, however, he withdraws, curling himself up in a ball on the mattress.

“No, thanks,” he mutters, forcing a grin onto his face. “I, uh, I took a swim yesterday! Squeaky clean.”

“I can’t imagine the river water is doing those clothes any good.” Phil rolls his eyes. “I’ll show you where the tub is later, yeah? You can do it yourself, if you want.” He turns to a closet in the corner of the room, opening the doors. “This has some of Wilbur’s old clothes, I think those’ll fit you. You’re a tall lad.”

A warmth blooms in his heart at the words. “Fuck yeah I am! Just watch, old man, soon I’ll be towering over you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Phil laughs. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Feel free to explore downstairs if you want, I’m sure Wil would love to give you a tour.”

Tommy wakes up crying the next morning. The food had been amazing, and so had the night. They’d sat by the fire as Wilbur strummed his guitar, and Phil told stories of the worlds he had been. He’d slept soundly in the bed, curled up under the blankets to absorb as much of the heat as he could.

When he wakes, he’s curled up in pain. His midsection cramps so bad he can hardly breathe. Sobs wrack his body as he wriggles his way out from under the blankets for air. Sweat soaks his skin and the sheets beneath him.

He’s secretly glad he’s loud. It doesn’t take long for footsteps to sound outside his door, and then a knock.

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice comes from outside the door. Tommy barely manages to gasp out a ‘come in’ before the door opens and the teen approaches the bed. “Oh, Tommy, are you alright? Are you hurt? I’ll call dad-”

“Don’t,” Tommy gasps. The thought of getting Phil for this is mortifying. One day in, and he’s already causing problems. He wouldn’t blame the man for throwing him back out on his ass.

“Tommy, you’re bleeding!” Wilbur is pulling back the sheets, and Tommy blinks when he sees the pool of blood he’s lying in. Then, he freaks.

“Oh my fucking Ender, I’m bleeding, I’m dying, Wilbur am I going to die?”

“You’re not gonna die, Tommy, hang on- DAD!” One arm slides under his back as Wilbur lifts him up against the pillow and he gasps in pain. “Okay, okay, calm… where does it hurt?”

Tommy clutches at his stomach, trying to force back the tears brimming in his eyes. Damn it! One day, and he’s already crying like- like a little girl. A hand pushes strands of sweaty hair away from his forehead and he unconsciously leans into it.

The door opens once more and Phil comes rushing in, Techno close behind. “Boys, what’s wrong? Oh, Tommy…” Tommy shrinks back, already expecting the admonishment, but none comes. Instead, Phil kneels by the bed, taking over from Wilbur, who gets up, wringing his hands. “Boys,” he says over his shoulder, “get me some hot water, towels, and fresh sheets.” The twins nod and rush out, leaving Tommy alone with the older man.

“Did you poison me, old man?” Tommy asks, trying to sound light-hearted. The cramp that shoots through his abdomen kind of ruins that.

“You’re alright, kid,” Phil answers, running a hand through the boy’s hair. “Can I ask you something? It’s not gonna be a nice one.”

“Lay it on me,” he mutters. He can’t feel much worse anyway.

“Alright.” Phil coughs shortly. “Tommy, were you born a boy?”

Heat rushes up his cheeks. He wants to crawl away, wants to hide, but Phil has him pinned, cornered like an animal. He wants to laugh, to proclaim how much of a man he is, but here in bed with bloody sheets the words won’t come. Instead, he shakes his head mutely, squeezing his eyes shut.

“That explains it. Tommy, it’s alright. You’re a boy, right?” A nod. “You’re a boy. But your body… Well, it happens sometimes, alright? Things get mixed up and you’re born… wrong.” He clears his throat. “Tommy, you’re menstruating.”

Phil explains, as Techno lifts him out of bed, as Wilbur washes the dirtied sheets and puts fresh ones on, as he holds a bottle of hot water against his cramping stomach. As he’s becoming older, his body is preparing for childbirth. All girls- all people with his anatomy go through it around this age. It won’t stop until he’s old.

“It’s not fair,” he complains later, laying on the couch with a cup of hot cocoa. “You guys were all born right. I don’t fucking want this!”

“Deal with it, kid,” Techno huffs. Wilbur kicks his ankle, but he continues, nonplussed. “Besides, you’re already plenty annoying. Can’t imagine what it’d be like if you had more testosterone in there.”

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me!” He points at the hybrid. “I’d be more manly than you!”

“Keep dreaming, kid.”

“Child,” Wilbur laughs. “You’re a boy still, don’t go around proclaiming you’re a man just yet.”

“Yet.” Tommy sticks his tongue out, but the light is back in his eyes. He’s a boy growing into a man, and this family will recognise that.


End file.
